


A Debt Repaid

by Lunermoon1000



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angry Sandy, Blood and Gore, But he won't get one, But it's also a medium for his powers, Character Death, Heavy Angst, Hurt Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood), Hurt No Comfort, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jack Frost Has Issues (Guardians of Childhood), Jack Frost Whump (Guardians of Childhood), Jack Frost feels indebted to Sandy, Jack Needs a Hug, Jack being Jack, Jack is just a kid, Jack's staff is a comfort item, Major Character Injury, Not Canon Compliant, Poor Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood), Protective Sanderson Mansnoozie, Sandy being Sandy, Sandy can talk, Sandy needs a hug, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Whump, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28522728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunermoon1000/pseuds/Lunermoon1000
Summary: Jack Frost, despite his mischievous nature, always repays his debts. Sandy doesn't think Jack owes him anything. Jack ends up getting hurt, but that's nothing out of the ordinary, is it?At least Jack gets to feel the release of freefalling one last time.
Relationships: E. Aster Bunnymund & Jack Frost, Jack Frost & Nicholas St. North, Jack Frost & Pitch Black, Jack Frost & Sanderson Mansnoozie, Jack Frost & Toothiana
Comments: 5
Kudos: 131





	A Debt Repaid

Jack was used to falling from high places.

Being the equivalent of a snowflake to the eyes of the wind, falling was a given if he lost control of his powers.

Sometimes there would be days where Jack couldn't feel anything. And it wasn't that he couldn't feel anything physically, emotionally he felt numb. Days where he knew he should be feeling something; sadness, anger, happiness, excitement. But he didn't feel anything.

He sat in a tree with his back up against the trunk and his staff in his lap. The frost grew around him, covering the entire length of the wooden hooked staff with icy coverage. The bark underneath him and behind him grew colder, the frost branching out like lightning. He would've been fascinated with it if it weren't for the fact he couldn't stop looking up at the night sky.

He looked at the moon.

It had a strange way of entrancing someone if they looked at it for too long and he was no exception.

One of Jack's legs fell off the branch he sat on, hanging limply from his perch, but he didn't look down. The tree was high up, yes, but he'd fallen from higher heights.

Falling.

He loved falling.

Jack blinked, finally breaking the spell and looking down at his lap. He wanted to feel something. But he didn't want to feel everything. The numb days were probably better than the everything days. That's what he'd started calling them. The days where he would feel everything at once. The ever increasing loneliness when he realizes he's all alone - and he's never been anything but alone - the pity he felt for himself that could never get rid of, the self hatred when he looks around and sees all the other spirits' contempt for him.

They all hated him. He knew that for a fact. But it was okay if they did. He didn't mind.

He did.

The ones that didn't hate him didn't really care if he was gone either.

Would anyone care?

Probably not.

Where was he again?

Oh right, the everything days. They usually all ended the same way; with him holed up somewhere having a breakdown. He knew no one would see him, but he didn't want to risk some random spirit to come around and find him crying alone. He had a reputation to keep after all.

"Hey!" An angry Australian accent shook him from his thoughts. In his surprise, Jack jumped up, staff already tight in his hand (so tight that he could feel the wood digging into his palms painfully), as a burst of frost shot from below him. The trunk of the tree was snow white with frost from where he'd been sitting.

Jack's breathing picked up and he searched the ground franticly for what could've shouted. His eyes fell upon the source. The Easter Bunny. Jack relaxed his shoulders and slumped against his staff. He'd been noticing lately how he'd jump at small noises, and startle easier than a deer.

He felt tired. Worn out like a wet rag. But even so, he looked to Bunny and made what he hoped was a smile and not a grimace. "Bunny! How's it hanging?"

"What're you playin at mate?" Bunny growled.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jack hopped down a branch to get closer to the pooka. His brown winters cloak flew in the air as he came down only to settle around his shoulders once he landed. "I've just been enjoying the weather." He was such a damn liar and he knew it. He honestly didn't know what season it was, but judging from the presence of the Easter Bunny, and the fact that he felt a little too faint at the warmth around him, he guessed it was Spring.

"You don't enjoy anything except throwing snowballs at people, much less the weather," Bunny retorted.

Jack kicked a bit of snow off the branch with his foot. His stomach filled with lead at Bunny's comments, making it ache, but he didn't dare show it on his face. "Harsh. I do enjoy other things. I like licking the snow. It's just frozen water after all." Jack was pretty sure he sounded as tired as he felt.

"That's disgustin'." Bunny cringed at him but his face fell into surprise when Jack looked up at him. "Mate," He said slowly, carefully, as if he were speaking to a cornered animal that he didn't want to spook, "When was the last time you slept?"

"What?" Jack asked at the sudden change of topic.

"You look like death."

Jack blinked before looking away. Bunny had a look of concern on his face that Jack was positive was just his eyes playing tricks on him. His lack of rest was probably catching up on him. "What do you care?"

"I care because you were just falling asleep in a tree," Bunny answered.

"I always fall asleep in trees."

"Not on Easter's Eve ya don't." Bunny's ears were pressed down against his head, brow pinched with worry. Jack looked at him, trying to see if he was faking it. Surely Bunny was faking it. There was no way he really cared.

"Well I'm sorry if I was ruining the weather," Jack said blandly. His head was beginning to hurt and his stomach felt like it was falling and he honestly wanted to fall with it. He looked back up at the sky, wind blowing like howling dogs calling him back to the pack. He was urged to follow it's call. "I'll leave."

"You sure you should be flyin' lookin like death?" Bunny started.

Jack was half listening though. When the wind called, he followed. "See ya, Cottontail."

The wind picked up eagerly, his cloak flying up with it. His feet felt lighter and it was just so easy to jump into the wind's grasp and be flown up into the air. He barely felt the sting on his face from the quickly rushing air.

He could've sworn he heard Bunny calling after him, but not being able to follow. Bunnies can't fly and the pooka was no different.

The wind followed his command, taking him higher and higher till the air felt thin and taking in a breath was a non-existent action. Gravity couldn't hold him down anymore as he stayed stasis, suspended in the air as he looked down at the ground below. He was miles up. From his position, he could see Earth as a large ball.

Jack stared at it for a moment more before looking back up. The moon looked larger than it did from the ground. "What's my purpose?" He asked for the hundredth time. "Why can't you just tell me why I'm here?"

He got no answer.

Like always.

Defeat washed over him as he let himself fall backward. Gravity got stronger as the wind rushed passed his roaring ears. Jack's body was limp as a ragdoll. He honestly didn't care at this point. He was just so tired, but he knew sleep wouldn't come easy. It never did. Because despite how tired his mind was, his body was full of energy that could never be spent.

Maybe if he slept, just a little, then the next day he'd feel somewhat normal when he woke up?

He could feel he was falling faster, so he tightened his hold on his staff so he wouldn't loose it to the harsh fall.

At least like this, when his stomach felt like it was falling, he could fall with it so his core felt whole again. Too bad it did little to stop the headache from his thoughts. The ground was steadily approaching, but he kept his back turned. He closed his eyes as he took in a deep calming breath.

And he let go.

The world came to focus slowly. First was his sense of hearing. The ticking of a distant clock on a wall, and the rustle of fabric. Very faintly he could hear the sound of stirring sand. The smell of salt water invaded his system and he twitched. He was surrounded by thin blankets with his head laying against a soft pillow. He would've been more alarmed if it weren't for the fact that he didn't feel hot at all.

It was strange. He wasn't cold nor hot.

Usually he would feel like melting ice in this many blankets.

The sheets under him were like silk. Smooth and snug to the point he found that it felt like he was underwater.

Curiosity filled, he pursed his lips and opened his eyes. Sleep still hung off of him drearily and his muscles were less than obedient. Even so, he glanced at his surroundings sleepily and tried sitting up. He was in a bed with creamy covers and a golden frame. In fact, the whole room was full of golden colors from the curtains to the carpet and the walls. Glassless windows lined the wall and a balcony door was drawn open, bringing with it a chilly wind and the smell of the sea.

His staff was leaned against the wall beside the bed and his cloak and vest were folded on the bedside table. The ends were damp, the frost that had lined the hem melted.

Jack looked back down at the blankets, their sides lined with ice from being in contact with him.

"Where?" He trailed off. Jack knew he should probably be panicking right now, but he was still really tired. His headache had gotten better and he felt more rested, but he was still fatigued. A part of him was tempted to crawl back under and fall back asleep while he still could. But then his mind would be full of questions about where he was and whose place this was.

So he threw the sheets back and moved his feet off the bed. The ground was cold and he welcomed the chill gratefully.

He heard a jingle from outside the room and his head snapped up towards the door. It was slightly ajar, the sound of slowing sand making it's way to his ears. Unease prickled at Jack's neck as he kept his breathing quiet. This is what he got for closing his eyes while falling. How did he even get there in the first place?

His hands found his staff and he used it as purchase to bring himself to his feet. Whoever brought him here was behind that door. Jack's legs felt weak and his knees were buckling as he leaned his weight on the staff.

Frost climbed up the worn wood, and he bit his lip.

His feet were silent on the golden floor and he could barely hear through the roaring in his ears and the beating of his heart.

The door started to open and Jack jumped, scrambling back before tripping on his feet and falling back. His back hit the floor with a resounding thud and he struggled to get away from the door. His staff fell out of his hands and his arms flailed.

Jack pressed his back against the foot of the bed, frost slowly spreading behind him in his panic.

A small golden hand showed up at the edge of the doorway, and in walked the person who brought him there.

The Sandman.

Jack stilled as the Sandman stood in the threshold of the door. He looked at Jack in shock and then confusion. In his hands was a bowl, a spoon still inside waiting to be used. Sandman came forward and Jack found he wasn't as scared as he had been a moment ago.

Symbols floated above Sandman's head. "You woke sooner than I thought you would."

"How-how did I get here?" Jack stammered.

"You fell onto my sand ship two days ago. I didn't know where else to take you, so I just let you stay here? You looked like you needed a nice rest," Sandman signed. "The floor can't be that comfortable. Do you want to eat this in bed?"

"Why?" Jack found himself asking before he could stop himself. "Why are you doing this?"

Sandman looked more perplexed than before and his brow pinched with concern as he looked down at the teen on the floor. "How old are you, Jack Frost?"

"What?"

"How old are you?"

"I-I'm one hundred and eight."

"No, how old were you when you were chosen to be a spirit?" Sandman sat down on the ground, placing the bowl in front of him. Jack could now see the contents of the bowl. It was cold soup.

"I don't understand. I've always been a spirit."

Sandman's eyes were still filled with concern. It made Jack's skin itch.

"Eat. You must be hungry," Sandman pushed the bowl closer to him. Jack stared at him for a moment, open distrust on his face before his eyes softened and he took the offering. The spoon froze slightly at his cold touch, but he shoveled the soup in his mouth. He was hungrier than he thought he'd be.

Jack looked up when the Sandman began to sign again. "Why do you think I wouldn't help you, Jack?"

"Nothing. Forget it," Jack was quick to reply. He slumped against the foot of the bed as he finished the last of the soup. It had been creamy and cold, slightly salty but sweet at the same time. It was rare that Jack had a good meal, and the soup had to have been the best thing he'd ever eaten. "Thank you."

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad to have company." Sandman signed. Jack looked to his downed staff, still on the floor from where it'd fallen, and was now right next to Sandman. Thankfully, Sandman caught on and followed his gaze to the staff, which he then slid over to Jack.

Jack slowly picked up his staff and held it in his lap. He didn't feel as tired as before, but he definitely felt the aftermath of exhaustion coming back to him after the adrenaline left. He wanted to get back in bed but he was probably overstaying his welcome.

"I should go," Jack started as he began to stand up, and his white shirt slipped under his wrist on the slippery gold floor, but he grabbed hold of the bed and used it to pull himself up. "You're probably busy, and I don't want to take up any more of your time."

Sandman watched as he made his way over to the nightstand. Jack pulled on his vest, leaving the buttons undone, and threw his cape over his shoulders and tied a simple knot. "Thanks again," Jack said as he walked out onto the balcony. "For catching me. Landing that fall would've been hard. A-And thanks for letting me stay. You didn't have to do that, let alone give me food after."

"It was no trouble. You looked like you needed help," Sandman signed. Jack froze, trying to process his words.

Sandman was probably just being polite. Either that or Jack was reading his messages wrong.

"I'll get outa your hair now. I owe you one. Bye!"

Jack had rarely been that quick to leave someone else's presence before. Everyone was being so weird. Maybe it was a trick. A prank to get him to trust them only for them to leave him alone and laugh at him later.

No one just welcomes someone with kind words and concern after ignoring them for so many years.

His heart wanted to believe that they were being genuine, but it also didn't want the disappointment that would come from being betrayed. No one saw him, and even the spirits who did didn't like like him. That hadn't changed and it never would.

Jack walked around Jamie's bedroom with a finger in his mouth the stifle his laughter. "Oh how I wish I had a camera right now."

The dream sand above Bunny and North's heads merged as a carrot took hold of a candy cane and started dancing with it. Sandy looked at his and shook his head disapprovingly, but Jack could see the small upturn of his lips.

Suddenly Jack felt the prickling unease of being watched and turned just in time to see a Nightmare flee from where it'd been watching through the window. Jack gasped and leaped for the windowsill, leaning out to see after the Nightmare and smiled mischievously as he jumped out.

"Sandy, come on! We can defeat Pitch!" He yelled back into the room as he flew away. He chased after the dark sand creature, jumping off cars and buildings as he flew.

Eventually he got the jump on it and watched it freeze to the ground like some strange graffiti stain. Blue ice holding the shadow to the top of the roof.

"Look at this thing," Jack whispered under his breath, tapping the frozen Nightmare with his staff and examining it.

"Jack Frost?" A heavy british accent said behind him. Jack twirled around, shooting a blast of blue ice at Pitch and watching him jump back to higher ground. "What are you still doing hanging around those weirdos."

Jack didn't answer, staff still raised on Pitch.

"This isn't your fight Jack," Pitch said patronizingly.

"You made it my fight when you stole those teeth," Jack hissed.

"Teeth? Why do you care about the teeth?" Pitch asked with what sounded like genuine confusion and curiosity. The man looked like he was about to continue when he caught sight of Sandy and jumped back with a gasp. Jack looked between them, Sandy had his arms crossed and a bored look on his face, but Jack could see the sharpness in his eyes. How he kept both Jack and Pitch his line of sight. Pitch composed himself and let out a low chuckle. "Now this is who I'm looking for."

Sandy didn't let the man say another word as he pulled out two whips of dream sand and advanced on Pitch. The Boogeyman dodged the hits before pulling out a scythe and swinging it around. Jack ducked to the ground to avoid getting sliced in half and just as Sandy dodged the swing, he threw the whip forward and it caught on Pitch's wrist.

Jack watched in awe as the Shadow king was flown into the air in an arc before crashing into the side of a car and rolling onto street below them. He winced when he heard a few cracks. Spirits were durable, sure, but that didn't mean they couldn't be injured. Jack's thoughts went back to the cuts on his arms and legs.

Icicle in hand, wielded as if it were a knife, wrapped in his fingers loosely as his hands lay limp on his lap. Sitting up against the base of a tree as he looked into the sky blankly, eyes glazed over and a distant expression on his face. The sleeves of his hoodie and undershirt were rolled up to his elbows and lines of red streaked on pale white skin, dripping down-

No!

Stop that.

There was no point in thinking about that.

They typically healed quickly, but that was definitely going to leave a few marks for a while. The groan he heard from the downed spirit only served to prove his thought.

Fake humor coated his words as he walked up to Sandy, who was wiping his hands as if he had touched something dirty, and whistled, "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

Pitch looked up as they landed on the sidewalk, propping up onto his elbows to scuttle away, "Okay, easy. You can't blame me for trying, Sandy. You don't know what it's like to weak and hated." Jack found himself halting a step at the words, but continued to advance behind Sandy. Pitch continued to speak as he rose to his feet. "It was stupid of me to mess with your dreams. So you know what? You can have them back."

The whine of a horse drew Sandy and Jack's attention to their surroundings as Nightmares crept up from sewer drains and running out of alleys. A dark foreboding sense of dread washed over Jack as he stood back to back with Sandy.

They were surrounded on all sides by the dark creatures of sand, eyes gleaming dangerously. Jack's breaths stuttered as he glanced down at Sandy. His grip on his staff tightened and he looked back nervously. "You take the ones on the left, I'll take the ones on the right?"

Sandy shrugged as they looked back over at Pitch, who had climbed onto the back of a Nightmare. Sandy pulled out his whips again, posed for any attack, but before either of them could do anything, North's sleigh flew above them and drew their attention up.

Jack was relieved for a moment until he saw the half asleep passengers inside and the dread increased. His fear must've been palpable as a Nightmare went in to nip him aggressively before Sandy pulled him away, dragging him up in the sky by the back of his hood.

Sandy threw him as a herd of Nightmares followed them and he blasted them away. The fight dredged on, Tooth flying out of the sleigh and ramming into Nightmares one by one.

Jack stayed high in the clouds near Sandy, because the awful feeling hadn't gone away yet, even as the Nightmares disappeared. The feeling felt foreign yet so familiar that Jack thought he was going to cry. It was the same feeling that was always at the back of his mind when he walked onto a frozen lake, even though he knew that the touch of his feet would freeze the water thick. It was never at such a forefront that he payed any mind to it, and he still walked out onto lakes, but it wasn't something that ever went away.

Lost in thought, Jack failed to notice a Nightmare speed at him from behind and ram into him like a truck. His staff fell out of his hand and he plummeted. The dread built up, so much so that he clutched at his stomach in pain and desperately reached out for the only object he owned, the only thing that ever gave him comfort.

His hand found the wood and he clutched it closely, curling around it in a ball to sedate his panic riddled mind before coming back to himself and letting the wind stop his fall before he gained any more velocity.

He landed on North's sleigh and allowed himself to breathe as he glanced at Bunny who looked at him with a smirk. "You might wanna duck." Following his instincts, Jack ducked his head as a Nightmare headed for the sleigh was hit with Bunny's boomerang and landed in his paws.

"Nice," Jack quipped sarcastically at Bunny's sneer and jumped off the sleigh to gain back the height he had before. He looked at Sandy's dream cloud, surrounded by Pitch's nightmare sand, as the Dream Captain whipped at it.

The dread was roaring so loud that he could hardly hear over the sound of his heartbeat and the blood flowing through his ears. The wind picked up and carried him faster towards Sandy. The man didn't see as Pitch was floating up behind him on his own cloud of sand, but Jack did. He also saw the evil glint in his eyes as he smiled like a cheshire cat, fangs gleaming in the low light of the moon. The dread was now in his throat and making his muscles tense and taut like a bow string. Like the bow that was now in Pitch's hands.

Pitch pulled back a dark black arrow on the unaware Sandman.

Jack was almost there.

He could make it.

The arrow glistened in the light of the full light of the moon, sharpened and poised to kill.

Jack was so close.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion.

Sandy's whips lashing out against the nightmare sand that surrounded him.

The Nightmares that were in pursuit of Jack as he was so close.

North's shout after him, most likely due to the Nightmares cutting the sleigh off.

The dread that was still in his throat as he was just feet away as Pitch's fingers let go of the bowstring and sent the arrow forward. Sandy turned around when he heard North call Jack's name to see the projectile headed for his heart, but didn't have time to dodge.

Suddenly Jack was no longer just feet away.

The pain was white hot, but the relief was like a taste of air to a drowning man. His arms were wrapped around Sandy's small form, shaking like leaves in a blizzard. Whether it was due to the arrow in his back, the alleviation that he succeeded, or the fear still in his heart, Jack didn't know. But despite the shaking, he tightened his hold and let out a shaky laugh as the taste of iron filled his mouth.

"I made it," He whispered to himself with a smile, his voice wavering.

Sandy's body began to shake too, grabbing onto the back of Jack's hoodie with quivering and unsteady hands.

Thick trails of blood began to fall down his back and the area around the arrow spread with crimson. Jack felt Sandy's hands touch a wet part of his hoodie and pull away, staining his hand red. "Jack," Sandy whispered with a voice full of fear and grief. The man's voice was shaking just as much as his body. Kids all across the world stirred in their sleep, wondering what woke them from their dreams before settling down once more. "W-why did you-" He trailed off as his voice broke.

Jack could feel his shoulder dampening and his arms getting weaker. "You looked like you needed help," He coughed out weakly, his breath getting shallower, blood flowing past his lips and dribbling down his chin.

He thinks he hears North's cry in the distance, far away through cotton filled ears. His grip loosened and he fell back. His staff dropped out of his hand and onto Sandy's dream cloud. Sandy reached a blood stained hand to catch him before he fell off and Jack could see through hazy and blackening eyes the look of pure panic and despair as Jack fell off the cloud.

Eyes half mast, the world seemed so far away. The only thing Jack could feel was pain and relief. The dread in his stomach was gone and replaced with a sense of cold contempt. He could almost just let go of everything. It would be so easy to just let go as he fell. But some part of him help on tightly to consciousness. He had no strength to call the wind to help him stop his decent, but he did have the strength to open his eyes just a little bit more and see through the black spots in his vision. He looked to the quickly shrinking Sandy who was now lashing out at Pitch with everything he had.

The man of shadows was being overwhelmed by both Sandy and Bunny.

They were holding him off.

They'd be able to stop him without Jack.

Maybe he could just rest for a little bit.

Jack fell backwards, wounded back to the ground, as gravity pulled on his limp body. Pulling him closer and closer to the Earth like shackles. The last thing Jack saw before his eyes closed was the full moon shining over him and Tooth's tearful crying face as she caught him.

**Author's Note:**

> I love Rise of the Guardians so much. But most importantly... I love psychoanalyzing Jack Frost and the other characters. They're all so interesting to pick apart. Their minds, habits, and mannerisms. I love analyzing fiction characters. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! If you liked my writing you should check my other fan fictions. I mostly write about My Hero Academia, but I wrote this because it was the winter season and the RotG fandom needs more good fics.


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